Latin Lovers: Passionate Spaniards: The Spaniard's Marriage Demand / Kept by the Spanish Billionaire / The Spanish Doctor's Convenient Bride

Already the film had become monumentally important to Isabella because it was yet another precious link to the man she’d given her heart to all those months ago …the man who was unknowingly the father of her baby.

Walking her friend to the door and helping her on with her coat, Isabella turned eagerly towards the bedroom as the other woman finally left, unable to wait even one moment longer to see her sleeping child …

Tipping out the contents of his wallet to search for a telephone number he needed, Leandro came upon a small gold business card from his friend Benito’s hotel. He hadn’t been in touch with him since that night he’d taken Isabella there and now he dropped down into the faded leather chair behind his desk and frowned in deep concentration. All kinds of disturbing emotions seemed to flare in his blood as he continued to broodingly stare at the small embossed card. An avalanche of heat flooded his senses as Leandro recalled that amazing, sexually charged night he’d spent with Isabella. Isabella …

Such a longing arose inside him at the memory of the dark-haired English girl he had been so enamoured with that he’d seduced her on the very first night they’d met and for a moment the depth of that longing was a hollow, aching void in the centre of Leandro’s chest. He had thought about her often since bidding her goodbye outside her hotel in the Port of Vigo and there had been many a time that he had regretted his cautious decision not to give her his telephone number so that they could stay in touch.

But what was she doing now? He longed to know. Had walking the Santiago de Compostela brought her the clarity and sense of purpose that she had hoped it would? Knowing what he knew, Leandro could not doubt that it had. Perversely, in the months that had followed their parting, his personal sense of purpose had been in turmoil. He had won more acclaim for his work than he had ever dreamed of, with offers coming even from Hollywood to further his directorial career. Yet he had also lost his father just a month after meeting Isabella and the loss had been almost too hard to bear.

Suddenly work was not the exciting prospect that took precedence over everything. He was like a wounded soldier who had forgotten to keep his guard up in battle and had unexpectedly been cut down by a sword or a bayonet. His father’s death had been sudden, shocking, his life stolen in one dreadful moment by a drunken driver, and that had made his passing even worse.

Theirs had been a remarkable relationship. As well as being the most amiable and best of men to get along with, Vincente Reyes had been the most dedicated fan of Leandro’s film work. Yet Leandro had not been able to fulfil the one wish that his father had longed to see come true before he died. He had wanted to see his only son married and a father and would have liked nothing better than a grandson or daughter to dote on. But Leandro had not had a long-term girlfriend in nearly three years …how could he even think about a relationship when basically his life was more or less devoted to his work?

But now as he remembered the intensity of emotion he had experienced that night with Isabella, he seriously thought about getting in touch with her again. Thinking of his father and the brutal realisation that life could be so suddenly and frighteningly snatched away, it had made Leandro increasingly sense the importance of making a connection somewhere with another human being. A much more personal connection than he had made in a long, long time. If Isabella had a relationship or was married, then he would leave well alone. However, if she were not …then what would be the harm in arranging to see her again? Feeling his blood throb with purpose, Leandro reached towards the telephone on his desk, automatically punching out a number he used regularly to make travel reservations …

It had been a long day and her throbbing feet and aching back were testimony to just how long a day it had been. She’d practically been standing since she’d come in that morning at nine and now it was just after five in the afternoon. Isabella had never been a ‘clock watcher’ but when you became a parent, she’d discovered, time took on a whole new meaning. It became infinitely precious. Now she was almost resentful of every second that she spent away from her little boy. Stealing another glance at the clock on the wall behind the long curved counter where she stood, she made a neat stack of the letters that needed to go out tonight on her way home and considered the compelling luxury of a long hot bath to ease her tired, aching limbs after she’d put Raphael to bed.

‘Cup of coffee?’

Her fair-haired colleague leaned over the counter, taking Isabella by surprise.

‘Becky! You startled me.’

‘Daydreaming about that baby of yours again?’ Becky grinned. Only just eighteen, the engaging teenager was on a day-release scheme from a local college and quite frankly her unflagging enthusiasm and willingness to learn had been invaluable to the library team. Isabella had grown quite fond of the girl.

‘One day you’ll know what it’s like.’ She smiled back, her dark eyes twinkling.

‘Not until I’m thirty-five at least! I want to have plenty of fun before I settle down and have a family. Anyway, how about that cup of coffee?’

‘That would be great …thanks.’

Isabella was reflecting on what Becky had said, asking herself if she’d relinquish ‘having fun’ if the choice were presented to her again over having a child, and decided immediately that there was really no contest. Raphael provided all the joy and fun she needed …Smiling to herself at the delicious feeling of warmth that flooded her being at the thought of her little boy’s sweet angelic face, Isabella lifted her gaze towards the swing doors of the entrance and the sight she saw there almost made her stop breathing …Leandro!

Was she dreaming? She blinked twice in rapid succession to make sure and was faced with the full, astounding reality of his flesh-and-blood presence. The palms of her hands flattened on the wooden counter needing the support. Even at the distance between them, those fascinating silvery eyes of his burned with a heat that made her feel weak. Wearing a long, fashionable black coat over an equally dark shirt and jeans, with his tousled hair, chiseled jaw and Mediterranean skin he brought an irresistible dangerous allure into the sedately benign surroundings of the public library. Isabella sensed her mouth turn dry as chalk as he approached and she knew that hers weren’t the only eyes to track his progress. The man was simply compelling …

‘Buenos días, Isabella.’

‘How—how did you find me?’

He smiled and Isabella saw a flash of white teeth and a sexy little dimple appear at one corner of his fascinating mouth. ‘I was working my way round all the libraries in the area, believe it or not. This is the third one I have tried …How fortunate is that?’

Isabella remembered telling him before they parted that she worked in Highgate. She wondered why he had left it eighteen months before coming to look for her. More than that, why had he come at all? Her stomach started to churn as her thoughts naturally turned to her son …Leandro’s son too.

‘I don’t understand what you’re doing here?’ she breathed, her hand unconsciously flattening against her belly, where tumult reigned supreme.

***

Isabella was definitely the sexiest librarian that Leandro had ever seen …Being so close to her again after eighteen long months, he felt his blood pound with helpless sensual excitement. It was clear by his extremely positive reaction that he had done the right thing in trying to find her. Now all he craved was the chance to be alone with her. He was impatient that she was here working, when all his instincts yearned to whisk her off somewhere and make love. His hungry gaze leisurely tracked her body in her dark green belted blouse and long black skirt. She was wearing her hair up too and Leandro longed to unpin it and see it cascade down over her shoulders. Anticipatory heat tightened his groin.

‘I wanted to see you again, of course.’

‘That’s a little hard to believe after so long,’ she answered defensively, a pink stain spreading on her cheeks.

He shrugged, convinced he could win her round. It might be arrogance on his part, but it was obvious to Leandro that he was definitely having an effect on her.

‘When do you finish work? We have to talk.’

‘“Have” to?’ Her dark eyes flashed her annoyance. ‘I don’t have to do anything that you want me to do! You didn’t even have the courtesy to give me your phone number when we said goodbye in Spain! Now you turn up as casually as though it were just yesterday we saw each other!’ She raised her voice, hissing her anger and people were looking. Isabella’s cheeks turned even pinker.

Leandro could not deny his own irritation in response. Perhaps he should not have been so quick to imagine that she would be glad to see him again, but he certainly had not expected to be openly castigated for seeking her out!

‘You know full well the reason I did not give you my number! But this is not the time and place for us to have this conversation. That should be in private when we are alone. What time do you finish here?’ he asked again, his silvery gaze almost fierce. Isabella sighed heavily and Leandro saw her charged breathing tighten her blouse a little across her breasts. He swallowed hard, watching her collect the little pile of white envelopes on the counter in front of her and hold them to her chest, almost as if to protect herself.

Isabella hardly trusted herself to speak. All she really wanted to do was go somewhere and have a good cry. But weeping would not accomplish anything and even though she’d flared up at Leandro about talking, they definitely needed to have a conversation! She had to tell him about his son. It had never been her decision to keep his existence a secret. Leandro was the one who had forced that decision on her by not giving Isabella his telephone number or at least somewhere where she might contact him and give him the news. She had longed to share with him that their passionate union that night had created a wonderful little boy, yet at the same time she had also dreaded it because she feared his reaction. If he had dismissed their time together as just another one-night stand, as Isabella was pretty sure Leandro had—then the last thing he would want to hear was that he had a son! But now that he had turned up in her life again, Isabella was experiencing confusion as well as anger.

‘I finish at five-thirty, but I need to go straight home tonight. If I give you my phone number perhaps we can arrange to meet tomorrow evening?’ She was only delaying their talk because she had to go to the nursery first and collect Raphael. That hardly gave her enough time to compose herself and think how she was going to break the astounding news to Leandro that he’d become a father! She saw the dismissive shake of his dark head with trepidation.

‘No. I do not want to wait until tomorrow to talk to you! If you need to go home first then I will wait until you finish and we will go back to your house together.’

Isabella had to think fast. She could see that Leandro was in no mood to be amenable about this, yet she desperately needed some time to get herself together! And she’d frankly rather talk to him first before letting him see Raphael. She wondered if she could prevail upon either Natasha or Chris to baby-sit?

Suddenly noticing Becky make her way past the long line of computers where the public utilised the Internet—the promised cup of coffee clasped between her hands—Isabella glanced pleadingly up into Leandro’s forbidding handsome gaze. ‘If you could give me a couple of hours to sort myself out, I can go home, do what I have to do, then meet you somewhere where we can talk? Please, Leandro …’

‘Why don’t you come to me then?’ he suggested, a flash of impatience in his eyes at having to wait to see her at all. Drawing an empty white envelope towards him, he wrote down an address. ‘A friend of mine has loaned me his house for a few days. We can talk, then go out to dinner.’

‘Okay …I’ll do that. I’ll come to you.’

‘Here you are!’ Becky put down the steaming beverage in front of Isabella, then glanced sidelong at Leandro. Immediately Isabella saw the interested gleam that stole into her bright blue eyes. She found herself praying that the teenager wouldn’t mention anything about Raphael. A public confrontation was the last thing she needed!

‘No biscuits, I’m afraid …but then that’s probably a blessing. Wouldn’t want to spoil our figures, now, would we?’ As the girl grinned flirtatiously Leandro ignored her to instead rest his gaze very deliberately on Isabella, letting it slide libidinously down her body and back again. Witnessing her obvious discomfort, he shrugged almost arrogantly. ‘That would indeed be a crime against nature …to spoil such beauty and perfection,’ he commented, his voice seductively lowered. Wrenching her gaze free with difficulty, Isabella addressed her younger colleague in a sharper voice than usual. ‘I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do before you leave at five-thirty, Becky, and so have I.’

She deliberately presented Leandro with her back to attend to some imaginary ‘necessary’ task, but not before she saw him push the envelope he’d written on further up the desk towards her …

CHAPTER FIVE

ISABELLA walked up and down the smart London street with its ‘perfect’ but way out of her price range terraced houses twice before plucking up the courage to ring the bell at the address that Leandro had given her. Number Sixty-six. Sixes and threes were always lucky for Isabella and she could certainly use some good fortune now, given the task ahead of her.

How would he take to the news that he was a father? Would he show her the door and tell her that he didn’t want anything to do with either her or their child ever again? Isabella told herself that she was quite prepared for such an eventuality even though it would be dreadfully hard to bear. Leandro was, after all, no ‘innocent’ party she was wilfully trying to implicate. They had both had an equal part in creating Isabella’s gorgeous little boy and it had been heartbreaking for her not to even be able to tell him about what had happened after she’d left the Port of Vigo and perhaps share the anxieties of her pregnancy and Raphael’s birth with him—instead of going it alone all this time.

Well …she’d learned a tough lesson but Isabella wasn’t resentful. How could she be when she had Raphael? Motherhood had definitely changed her for the better and she’d met the challenges with courage and resourcefulness. And although admittedly in an ideal world it would have been preferable and perhaps easier to be part of a couple, she had nonetheless become a very capable single parent. So, it wasn’t as though she needed Leandro’s help or intervention, was it? She was merely going to tell him the truth at last. Even though she’d no doubt be emotionally crushed by his rejection when confronted with it face to face …’Come on, Isabella, you can do this!’

Turning up the collar of her long winter coat to help fend off the freezing night air, she finally plucked up the courage to press the doorbell.

He had been like a man anticipating an urgent visit from his lawyer and a quick thankful release after being unlawfully detained in prison—such was Leandro’s impatience and insistent craving to see Isabella again. He could not remember the last time that he had done so much useless pacing in all his life! Picking up the screenplay that he had been in consultation with his script editor with for most of the morning, which—if he was honest—he was still vaguely unhappy with, he silently cursed his too distracted mind for making it almost impossible for him to concentrate. Rescuing the mug of strong black coffee that he’d made himself earlier, which was rapidly chilling since his thoughts had been so preoccupied, he settled himself determinedly in his friend Richard’s agreeably comfortable high-backed armchair and struck his long legs out towards the fire blazing in the Edwardian fireplace. Resting his bare feet on the matching well-used footstool, he endeavoured to overcome his persistent preoccupation and try to relax instead. But it was just too hard to stop thinking about Isabella.

Seeing her at the library earlier had activated a need in him that he could scarce believe. Had he ever felt this agitated about seeing a particular woman before? He didn’t think so …In fact nearly all of his previous girlfriends had accused him of being far too aloof and distant and not nearly as attentive as they would like …including the girl who had betrayed him with another man. When the doorbell sounded suddenly, chiming its incongruous cheerful tune throughout the house, Leandro bit back a relieved curse and levered his athletic frame with fluid ease out of his chair. Discarding the too cold mug of coffee on a small side-table, he drew in his breath and padded out in his bare feet to the sedately decorated corridor to answer the door. ‘Sedate’ because he’d wryly observed that the English seemed to have something against the use of bright vivid colour in their homes. Maybe it was something to do with the long months of ‘grey’ weather they had to endure?

Madre mia! Leandro’s second sighting of Isabella’s smiling but apprehensive beautiful face in the space of two short hours set his heart to racing. A surge of pleasure so profound captivating him, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.